Henri Cole Quotes

#1. Proximity to this death makes me nostalgic for the French language.

Henri Cole

#2. I feel like a jug in which wine is poured until it overflows.

Henri Cole

#3. There's no animal that sleep-deprives itself like the human.

Henri Cole

#4. Even the songbirds have levels of mercury in their blood and feathers.

Henri Cole

#5. Her eyes are salt-choked.

Henri Cole

#6. the wrinkled sleeve of the head

Henri Cole

#7. Introducing the idea of beauty as a salve and of aesthetics making something difficult accessible.

Henri Cole

#8. spattering the walls with pulp and guano, like graffiti artists.

Henri Cole

#9. Over the past 30 years, hand grenades, tanks, fighter jets, missiles, helicopters and assault rifles have replaced traditional floral patterns in rug making and other textiles. Depicting these realities of war has helped the Afghan people to survive during times of conflict.

Henri Cole

#10. unselfing themselves

Henri Cole

#11. Words and phrases grew only slowly

Henri Cole

#12. How can I defend myself against what I want?

Henri Cole

#13. You see, my mind takes me far,
but my heart dreams of return.

Henri Cole

#14. sleep-stiffened bones

Henri Cole

#15. We all came from our mothers' bellies. We all have hope in our veins. We don't want history to forget us, but the dead look after the afterwards.

Henri Cole

#16. My soft voice and demeanor were useless. In a pint jar, I carried a cremated friend, like flesh scraped from a cistern.

Henri Cole

#17. As language is sometimes audible before senses arrives.

Henri Cole

#18. Mars red gladiolus

Henri Cole

#19. the art of life, mostly, the art of avoiding pain

Henri Cole

#20. Like something abstract deep within us-

Henri Cole

#21. Tenderness was not yet dust.

Henri Cole

#22. Why was the salt of wisdom no good to him?

Henri Cole

#23. There was rain on steroids.

Henri Cole

#24. Milk, blood, tears, urine, semen.

Henri Cole

#25. In truth, I'm still slightly embarrassed to say, I am a poet. I'd rather say, I make poems.

Henri Cole

#26. The thick, caressable curls if his hair.

Henri Cole

#27. Releasing big sparks of rain that seem almost to bruise me

Henri Cole

#28. Was I happier there in my loneliness

Henri Cole

#29. I intended to make a poem about the superiority of language over brute force

Henri Cole

#30. You weren't born by yourself.

Henri Cole

#31. A plague of snow, fluffy and dry before it hardens and grips the trees, the walls, and the cars parked haphazardly everywhere. When I walk to the little market a few blocks away, it feels like a test of endurance.

Henri Cole